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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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R andom Sho ts. 



NELSON GOODRICH HUMPHREY, 

LE ROY, ILLINOIS. 









BLOOJ1INGTON, ILL : 

Press and Bindery of the Pantagraph Establishment. 

1884. 



^C^A 






COPYRIGHTED, 1884, BY 

NELSON GOODRICH HUMPHREY, 

LeRoy, Illinois. 



CONTENTS 



Spring-, 

Success, 

Reflections, . 

Random Shots, 

To Our Fallen Heroes, 

The Phonograph, 

Unseen Power, 

One Hour, 

Progress, 

Going West, 

True Value, . 

Life, 

Remembrance, 

Imagination, 

The Heathen, 

The Old Dray Mare, 

The Old Sugar Camp, 

A Waik, 

An Indian Dreamed, 

The Switzers, 

A Cyclone, 

Perpetual Works, . 

Alphabet Rhymes, 

Forty-eight Hours in 1881 

Motion, 

Fault Finding, 

■Growth, 

Calculations, 

Imitations, 

Youth, . 

Christmas Cheer, 

Thrilling Ad/enture, 

A Midnight Scene, 

Uncle John, 

The Lighthouse, 

Varieties, 

Education, 

Observations, 

Fruitless Attempt to Analyze Space, 

The Comet's Reply to the Atheist, 



Page. 
5 
7 
9 
II 
13 
14 
16 
17 
19 
21 
23 
24 
26 
27 
28 
30 
31 
33 
35 
37 
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41 
43 
44 
47 
48 
49 
50 
51 
53 
55 
56 
57 
59 
61 
63 



PREFACE. 

There is only one way to make ideas invariably interest- 
ing, — simply tell the truth. Knowing that all people are 
liable to make mistakes gives me courage, although in 
weakness, in presenting a few ideas, likes and dislikes. 
My titlepage, "Random Shots," is a material benefit to me. 
As a rule, peoj}le in this world pass much like money — 
for what they are worth on the market. The following 
verses, except the last two subjects, were written to please 
myself, which, I believe, is the best way to please others. 
They were written for personal benefit and pastime, as a 
relaxation from the cares, duties, and responsibilities of 
every-day life. I feel confident that if my readers enjoy 
the reading one-half as well as I did the composing, 1 shall 
be perhaps better paid than I deserve. A friend, Mr. A. 
C. Mayo, of Danville, 111., urged me to have them pub- 
lished, and, thinking they would certainly do no harm, I 
consented. "Fruitless Attempt to Analyze Space," and 
"The Comet's Reply to an Atheist" are placed with my 
collection as a credit and compliment to H. EL Ballard, a 
Kentucky gentleman and scholar. 

NELSON" G. HUMPHREY. 
LeRoy, Ellinois, 1884. 




SPRING. 



SPRING. 

The farmers are taking chances, 

As they did through sleet and snow; 

And the heat of spring advances 
To the land where blizzards blow. 

And I heard the cattle lowing 

On the prairie, stiff and cold; 
And the rooster, he was crowing, 

But his voice was harsh and old. 

And I heard the distant rumbling, 
Sounding like an old machine; 

'Twas a prairie chicken grumbling, 
As the grass was turning green. 

And I saw the maidens raking 

With their strong and steady arms, 

As their kindred friends were taking 
Oats to sow upon their farms. 

And I saw two wives together 

Making soap, and their tongues did use, 
Talking there about the weather, 

And their neighbors did abuse. 



"random shots. 

And I saw the butcher driving 

For the city's daily need, 
Where the nocks and herds are thriving, 

And return with greatest speed. 

And I saw a bulk of treasure 
In a basket — they were eggs; 

And a portion went for pleasure, 
And the balance go on legs. 

But the crops maturing later, 

Like the chickens, they must grow, 

But the harvest will be greater 
If we only reap and sow. 



SUCCESS. 

The route to success is open to all, 

The braver ones win, where tickle one's fall ; 

Cause and effect are ever the same, 

Up, all my comrades, and work for a name. 

To reap a good harvest, sow in good soil; 
To gain a good conscience, fear not to toil; 
Pass the fault finding to right or left hand, — 
Heads stored with knowledge are sure to expand. 

To dwarf the spirit of a little child 
May leave it lonely, in some dreary wild, 
When others more weak in physical force, 
Stay close to the track, not losing their course. 

It always has been, and always will be 

To our advantage, what others can see, 

That by their failures, or by their success, 

Our burdens through life more lightly will press. 

The actions of others regulate life, — 
To prove a kind husband, obtain a kind wife; 
It is blood and sense, and morals together, 
That saves a wreck through all kinds of weather. 



Wisdom so often ends in great folly, — 
Drunken with wine makes some people jolly; 
Others, their eyes full of devils you see, 
That skulk as soon as over the spree. 

The foolish of earth are those who feel wise, 

Are happier often laughing at lies; 

Deceit is a game on all stages shown, 

It plays its havoc on the young and the grown. 

The people of ages far in the past, 
No artist is able their image to grasp; 
But wild in fancy, some try to explain 
Features of Judas, and even of Cain. 

Into the future another class go, 
Features of angels in Heaven they know; 
All bright and shining o'erspread with wings, 
Upon the beggars, and even the kings. 

Diamonds and jewels are sold for their worth, 
Not so with people upon this broad earth; 
Quantity often handles the reins, 
Quality falters, but carries the brains. 

To be but a drone when harvest is near, 
This life is too short, for halting and fear; 
The longer the route, the swifter the speed, 
The harder the task, more nerve do we need. 




See the moon at night, dancing- on the waves, 
While the son of toil sleeps in -sweet repose' 



RANDOM SHOTS. 



REFLECTIONS. 

The dreams of childhood, with the facts of age, 
Together mingle in my brain to-night ; 

They are dear old friends, and they press the page, 
In simple measure, are reflecting bright. 

In the waving wheat is the bread of life, 
That will walk about and reflect its use; 

But if from the still it will harbor strife, 
That its owner kill with its vile abuse. 

See the moon at night, dancing on the waves. 

While the son of toil sleeps in sweet repose, 
Dreaming he is free, though he is a slave, 

While the falling dew openeth up the rose. 

See the drops of rain glisten in the light, 

When the "bow of peace" greets our longing eyes. 

Soon the scene is changed, — snow of purest white 
Takes the place of rain, and the rainbow dies. 

Once a lover true, his sentence was to die 
For another's crime, in his grave was laid; 

There a maiden wept for soul on high, 

Tears "reflected" bright on the sexton's spade. 



10 



Once a little child dreamed a triple dream; 

Dreaming that he woke in the morning light, 
Dreamed he went to sleep, dreamed he dreamed a 
dream, 

While his reason slept through "reflections" bright. 

If within the eye objects do "reflect," 
Murderers remain, who are magnified 

By the skill of man, all should recollect 
Justice will be paid, though the victims died. 

In a mirror grand, did a beggar stare 

He "reflections" saw. Once a mother's prize 

As he closer drew, saw a lonely pair, 

Tliev were twins of grief, in the mirror eyes. 



11 



RANDOM SHOTS. 

We have truly often wondered 
Why some people are so wise, 

When the truth is they have blundered, 
And themselves they have surprised. 

Like the pig out on the ocean, 

On a sail ship, all alone, 
Was a compass put in motion, 

As he started toward his home. 

They tell us of astronomy — 
Of wonders through the skies, 

In trade it is economy, 

And they manufacture lies. 

And in all the undertakings 
That they cannot take the lead, 

They delight in giving rakings 
On the ones they mostly need. 

And to those who have befriended them 

In days of greatest grief, 
Long ago their friendship ended— 

They are to-day crying thief. 



12 



We notice in our history, 

When the rocky pass was found, 

The Indians knew the mystery, 

Though they had no volumes bound. 

From hill to hill did telegraph, 
On drums their signals giving; 

Though some to-day may jeer and laugh, 
'Twas true when they were living. 

Their children were to them as dear 
And wild as game they captured; 

Across the rolling prairies 

Those hunters were enraptured. 

They traced the paths of animals 
Where purest springs were flowing ; 

Some swear that they were cannibals 
Because they are so knowing. 



13 



TO OUR FALLEN HEROES. 

We think of freedom as we meet to-day 

In joy and sadness, as in other years; 
We think of comrades who have passed away, 

Of the wreck of years, of the flood of tears. 

In the North and South they are laid to rest — 

It is sad to know that so many fell, 
In their blue or gray, for they did their best; 

And the woe of homes none on earth can tell. 

As brooks from the hill unite as they go, 

With others more grand, though they pass from sight; 
So we think of those that were here below, 

For they battled hard for freedom and right. 

We see the widows in their silent grief, 

And we think of sons that they fondly reared; 

But our sympathy is a poor relief, 

For their loved and lost who have disappeared. 

We see the maidens of those years ago, 

Who were promised brides at the groom's return; 

But their cheeks are pale, and their steps are slow, 
For the flush of hope can no longer burn. 



14 



The orphan children that are left alone — 

May the strong of earth lend a listening ear — 

May we think of them as we do our own, 
For their sightless sires cannot shed a tear. 

And may the angels from the heavenly spheres 
Plant choicest flowers where the unknown sleep; 

May the Stars and Stripes in the coming years 
Be our beacon light as we climb the steep. 



THE PHONOGRAPH 

Yes, the wonderful instrument 
Appears to have a mind; 

On deeds of mercy can be sent 
To talk, though deaf and blind. 

Music preserved in minor strains, 
Perhaps a thousand years; 

Sermons profound from lofty brains 
Preserved for unborn seers. 

Its memory so very nice 
Can speak just to the rule, 

And imitate a bird precise, 
Or bray, just like a mule. 



15 



To serenade at midnight hour 

Four instruments you need; 
All parts to sing, with mighty power, — 

Soprano takes the lead. 

Suppose stringed instruments are used, 
Harsh discords fill the strains; 

Musicians then will be abused 
Because they lacked the brains. 

To bachelors who timid are, 

Pray let your thoughts be heard, 

Prepare your speech and send it far, — 
You dare not take the word. 

For words, all know, will beat the pen, 
But self should beat the phone, 

If courage weak just send it then, 
To talk to her alone. 

A quick reply she soon will send, 
If earnest and sincere, 

As you have be.en, your heart will mend- 
To you be just as dear. 



16 "random shots.'' 



UNSEEN POWER. 

Millions of worlds, spread out through realms of light, 

Move on a mystery of unseen power; 
Weak mortals live and wonder at the sight, 

All vainly try to comprehend an hour. 

The strength of rivers, in the hills unseen, 
The red men of the forest well did know 

Would bear the light canoe through valleys green, 
Along the banks where unseen flowers grow. 

Far in a northern land explorers 'spied 

A mammoth well preserved in ice and sleet; 

Extinct the unseen power that nobly died, 
With frozen heart, that years before did beat. 

The unrecorded deed since earth was new, 
From genius minds in ancient arts now lost; 

Huge blocks of stone, in pyramids so true, 
Unknown to modern power at any cost. 

It is the unseen steam that drives the car, 

The unseen thoughts that move the strongest pen, 

The unassuming ones who have, by far, 
The stronger hold upon the hearts of men. 




Lies a valley, and a stream 
Of never ceasing flow. 



17 



ONE HOUR. 

Xear a lofty mountain scene 

Of never-fading snow, 
Lies a valley, and a stream 

Of never ceasing flow. 

The day was slowly dying, — 
Disappearing in the West, — 

The brant and crane were flying, 
Their wings were needing rest. 

A maiden sat in sadness, 

Outside a cottage door; 
The flowers bloomed in gladness, 

As they had done before. 

She saw the waving grasses, 
And heard the plowman sing, 

While through the mountain passes, 
Small birds were on the wing, — 

From unending summer days 
To cheer a northern home, 

With their free and joyous lays, 
Until their young were grown. 



18 



The mill had ceased its turning; 

The stars were shining clear: 
The maiden's brain was burning — 

She could not shed a tear. 

Her lover had departed 

Those meadows and those streams. 
And left her broken-hearted, — 

She saw him then in dreams. 

The hope that she had cherished 

Returned in joyous tears; 
His spirit had not perished 

But passed the " wreck of years." 



il RANDOM SHOTS. 



19 



PROGRESS. 

When Noah's Ark was sailing high 
Above the mountains, toward the sky, 

All living creatures, with mankind, 
The greatest show on earth combined. 

For forty days the torrents poured, 

The lightning flashed, and thunder roared, 

Amphibious creatures were not drowned — 
They saw the sight and heard the sound. 

As Darwin taught, the cannibals 
Progressed from Xoah's animals, 

Until they upright stood to walk, 
And taught the parrots how to talk. 

If muley cattle, once unknown, 

Like mules and many things have grown, 
Why be surprised if man alone 

"Immortal" is, from zone to zone. 

He gazes up unending space 
Is proven to a wondering race; 

The heathen bows with bended knee, 
The world's revolve, he cannot see. 



20 



The night is made to sleep and dream, 
But time and sense should be our theme; 

We boast of modern skill and cost. 
Forget the ancient arts now lost. 

The color of the rainbow's glow, 

Or echoes in the years ago; 
The roaring ocean; shedding tear, 

To mortal life was just as dear. 

Humanity at best is weak. 

To-day, through telephones we speak; 
We telegraph o'er land and sea, 

As God intended it should be. 



The "golden rule," for all mankind 
Is: "Help the weak and lead the blind 

Like Darwin, all will be surprised 
When from the planet they arise. 



The. highest monument, sublime, 

Must crumble with the wreck of time; 

The mysteries beyond shall know, 
Prove what we can while here below. 

If genius spirits wrapped in clay 
Of ancient heroes passed away; 

It matters little where our birth, 

Or when we journey from the earth. 



21 



GOING WEST. 

For a little rest on a rainy time, 
An Irish story I'll put in rhyme; 
'Twas Patrick Lynch who took a notion 
For a country trip across the ocean. 

He bid old Ireland and his friends good-bye, 
And tear-drops slid from many an eye ; 
And in fifteen days he was ' way out West, 
In America; for he thought it best. 

It is either "feast or famine" with me, 
Was the Irish thought, when he left the sea; 
For he oft had heard on the prairie wide, 
Was the better place for an Irish bride. 

In Illinois he was satisfied ; 

And upon his legs he took a ride, 

For his purse was weak tho' his legs were strong 

And upon his lips was an Irish song. 

The night drew near as the earth rolled 'round, 
As he neared a swamp, when he heard a sound 
Of a thousand frogs, to his great surprise ; 
And the "lightning bugs" were before his eyes. 



22 



It was hard to think what for him was best ; 
It was four long miles to the town for rest; 
But a colored man, in a cunning way, 
Gave poor Pat a bed until break of day. 

Patrick, very tired, did not easy wake, 

And the colored man in his hand did take 

Charcoal pulverized, and from Irish made 

To the darkest hue, called him "King of Spades." 

At an early hour Patrick was in town, 
Where the hotel clerk met him with a frown; 
"Surely," Pat replied, "hungry I have grown; 
I am in the West looking for a home." 

"Far in Africa surely you belong;" 
Patrick quick replied, "Truly you are wrong;" 
When he took a look in a mirror wide, 
Saying, "How is this for an Irish bride." 

Then the mystery opened up his mind, 
That the colored man certainly was blind ; 
"When he woke the man a mistake was made, 
It was not meself, but the Jack of Spades." 



23 



TRUE VALUE. 

LINES ON A SILVER COIN 101 YEARS OLD. 

Iji the hills, beyond the ocean, 

At a time to me unknown, 
Far from light and earth's commotion, 

There my pocket coin was sown. 

Foreigners that first did listen 
To its ring, pronounced it just; 

Foreign eyes that saw it glisten 
Years ago, returned to dust. 

Hid in pockets, under pillows, 

Kings have owned and beggars claimed; 
Rocked upon the ocean billows, 

Thy identity retained. 

Crops have failed and friends have faltered, 
True to all thou hast been tried; 

Dim thy face that time hath altered, 
"Golden Rule" by none denied. 

For its worth to other creatures, 
Well preserved, this coin shall rest, 

As a saint whose peaceful features 
Indicate a spirit blest. 



24 



LIFE. 

To be extreme with friend or foe, 
Their inmost yearnings we can never know; 
Unless, beyond, our Heavenly Parent 
Makes all our lives to each transparent. 

Even balanced be, both in deed and mind, 
Love, the king of worlds, greater than mankind. 
Blessings sown in time from an unknown hand 
May forever bloom in a better land. 

On earth have been skeptics, from creation, 
In every clime of every nation; 
From highest learning in our greatest schools, 
To the lowest rank of the lowest fools. 

As each day brings a difference of thought, 
When some people gain what others have sought; 
It may have been honor, or may have been wealth; 
While some seek pleasure, the others seek health. 

The finest features on this broad earth found, 
By laws of nature return to the ground ; 
Except the mummy, in shows to be found, 
Whose features will change at Gabriel's sound, — 



25 



And those sunken eves, like lamps without light, 
Upon that great day more brilliant and bright 
Than when in his youth his parents could see 
The end of their race was not yet to be. 

It may be, my friends, with you and with me, 

Such visions as this our parents can see; 

That down in the ages yet to be born 

Their features will glide like clouds in a storm, — 

Or in the clear weather, upon some still lake, 
The sun and water their image will take, 
And soon pass away, as all plainly see 
That sunrise and sunset never agree. 

AJ1 eternity to this present time 
Draws thoughts from a thinker, grand and sublime, 
That yonder in space are worlds yet unseen, 
Created from thought by one Mighty King, — 

Whose eye comprehends all atoms in space. 
Not wrecking a world; each one in its place 
Revolving so still to our mortal ears, 
His millions of work by us called the spheres. 



26 " RANDOM SHOTS. : 



REMEMBRANCE. 

When Smith was young and I a boy, 

'Twas many years ago, 
He owned a stage for all LeRoy — 

The older ones well know. 

To Bloomington the public went, 

Their passage freely paid ; 
And loads of grain were often sent 

Before the rails were laid. 

The old state road remains the same, 

LeRoy we love as well; 
The old school house has changed its name,- 

For years 'twas a hotel. 

The games we played while there at school, — 

Especially "Blackman;" 
The boys and girls did act the fool 

As often as we ran. 

A few have passed to realms of light, — 

The unseen angels came 
And bore them upward in their flight, — 

The other ones remain. 



27 



Fathers, mothers, their children sweet, 

Our streets do daily tread; 
Old maids and bachelors we meet, 

Because they never wed. 

Those years ago on memory's wall 
Are photographed complete; 

Though far away I hear them call, 
Their happy faces meet. 



IMAGINATION. 

Kinder, out East, was very mad, 
Humphrey, in town, was very glad- 
That innocent he'd surely been, 
Though Kinder thought it was a sin. 

How it happened, I'll quickly state : 
His ledger page was long and great ; 
A balance long before was made — 
Was positive that Kinder paid ; 

And Kinder swore, an hour long, 
That Humphrey sure had done him wrong; 
A reason claimed, to curse and swear, 
Wrinkle his face, his conscience tear. 



28 



Though fast asleep, seemed wide awake, 
As he supposed did vengeance take 
Upon a friend, he thought a foe, 
Because his reason did not know. 

A lesson grand from this we learn, 
For waking hours where'er we turn, 
Realities are oft as blind 
As Kimler seemed to me unkind. 



THE HEATHEN. 

Near Africa, so far away, 

The traders dwell on Bonny Bay, 
In hulks of vessels once so grand, 

To shun the fever on the land. 

Two hundred miles from Bonny coast, 
Of eating human flesh they boast; 

In heathen lands they deem it just — 
In superstition put their trust. 

Where living slaves are often led, 
And buried low with masters dead, 

And in the quiet hours of night, 
In robbing graves they take delight. 



29 



Fierce pestilence they drive complete, 
By dragging victims through the street; 

Then plunge them into water cold, 
In that fair land a custom old. 

The darkest belt known on the earth, 
Where twins are slain at hour of birth ; 

And mothers, innocent as they, 
Are either killed or sent away. 

To send them word to make them free, 
All Christian nations should agree; 

And those who take the news to them 
We call the bravest of all men. 



30 



THE OLD DRAY MARE. 

Twenty-two years ago last February, 
The old dray mare appeared 

In a meadow, owned by Garee, 
By him was kindly reared. 

Following on through dust and dew, 

Smelling the new mown hay, 
A sorrel colt that stronger grew, 

Watching the children play. 

Through summer's heat and winter's cold 
Three years of life was spent 

In happiness; but Johnson's gold 
A bargain made — she went, 

Soon trouble came; her honest sire 

Was placed beneath the sod, 
Her metal good, she could not tire, 

She had no friend, or God. 

Around her neck a collar wore 
Through winter's coldest night; 

The marks of pain upon a sore 
Until it turned to white. 




THE OLD SUGAR CAMP. 



31 



The slaves for life are changing hands, 
Are hauling beer and bread 

In Illinois and other lands, 
And will be till they're dead. 

Humanity is much the same, 

So many try to shirk — 
Allow the old, the weak, the lame, 

To do their honest work. 



THE OLD SUGAR CAMP. 

In western New York, thirty years ago, 
When a youth at home in the sugar camp, 

We drove the sled through the drifted snow, 
Though the wind was chill and the roads were damp. 

Where the maple trees, waiting long for spring. 
On them were the scars of the year before, 

On the shining pails birds were on the wing; 
When the auger turned, sap began to pour. 

As the spring advanced, nature seemed at best, 
And the sweets below with the sun awoke ; 

But the Sabbath clay only was for rest, 

And the birds and bees there the silence broke. 



32 



Monday morning came, and the work began. 
Saving at the camp sap that had not spilled. 

As from tree to tree we together ran, 
To the long canoe, until it was tilled. 

Then the fires were built, and the kettles hung, 
And the sugar saved for the coming year; 

Through the watch at night, we together sung, 
With the neighbor girls there to give us cheer. 

Soon the moon arose, shining through the trees, 
Welcomed to the feast; in the camps around, 

Odors from the flowers, passing in the breeze, 
Where the snow had been on the frozen ground. 

In the modern camps yokes are never seen; 

Sap is hauled on sleds, — kettles are not known; 
But the olden spots of my youth are green, 

Though in Illinois I am left alone. 

Of those ancient scenes thousands living know, 
Thousands are at rest, thousands soon will be. 

Where the winter's blast over them will blow, 
And with all the rest kindly think of me. 




I pause beside the winding stream. 
A flower is borne away. 



''random shots." 



33 



A WALK. 

From busy scenes of life I stray, 

To remote and quiet shade ; 
Beneath the lofty oaks, my way, 

That the little acorns made. 

Unwritten poems here I meet, 

The growth of many a year ; 
Flowers are growing at my feet, 

That I pluck and shed a tear. 

I pause beside the winding stream, 

A flower is borne away ; 
And the lily bows, as in a dream, 

As it bids the sun good day. 

Immortal themes, I cannot write, 

That the soul alone can reach, 
Come crowding on my mental sight, 

That below is not in speech. 

Yearnings, like those who grief have known 
When shadows have passed away, 

Meditations maturer grown 

When the mists have cleared away. 



34 



The myriad stars through leafy trees 
Looked down, and caught my sight ; 

And sweet perfumes were in the breeze, 
Through that lovely July night. 

Far in the east a friend arose — 
The moon, with a smiling face, 

Reflected on the brook, and 'rose 
'Til he found my hiding place. 

A voice I heard, it was my own ; 

" Kind friend," to the moon I said, 
u What scenes by thee on earth are known, 

Of the living and the dead." 



85 

RANDOM SHOTS. 



AN INDIAN DREAMED. 

Where wooden sticks and drums did play, 
When the fifes were loud and shrill; 

It was on "general muster day," 
Down the valley; up the hill. 

It happened in an Eastern state, 
Where years before was fighting; 

A circumstance of ancient date, 
Tradition put in writing. 

An Indian chief beheld the sight, 
The eagle high was soaring; 

Strange scenes; his brain expressed delight- 
Artillery was roaring. 

Night came, and quiet reigned supreme, 
Through camp the moonlight glistened; 

The chieftain in a wondrous dream 
In wigwam eager listened. 

He heard a tramp, a white man spoke: 
The choice of all is yours; he went; 

He saw the steed, before he woke, 
The general to him had sent. 



36 



The chief arose, believed it true, 

To the general quickly went; 
His dream explained of grand review, 

And the horse to him was sent. 

The general dreamed a mighty dream, 
But he dreamed it through the day; 

One half a reservation theme, 
For the horse he gave away. 

The artificial lie, you see, 

Like the present thefts was paid ; 

"White man you dream too hard for me," 
The reply the Indian made. 



37 



THE SWITZERS. 

A TRUE STORY. 

In a valley up a mountain, 

Not many years ago, 
Lived a widow near a fountain. 

Between the peaks of snow. 

Three sons were left as recollections 
Of one beyond the skies; — 

Remnants of her first affections, 
Bequeathed from earthly ties. 

A hunter was the eldest child, 
His face was smooth and fair; 

He killed the nimble chamois wild, 
High in the Alpine air. 

The younger boys did baskets make, 
Through the winter weather ; 

In summer time did berries take 
Down the mount together. 

In eighteen hundred and seventy -four 
The snow fell high and higher ; 

Their winter store it was no more. 
The fuel scarce for fire. 



38 "random shots.' 1 

Starvation seemed their last relief. 

The stronger two were brave; 
They left their mother in her grief, 

The weaker ones to save. 

The light came stealing where the smoke 
Ascended through the day; 

The stars shone down when they awoke- 
To start upon their way. 

They fastened snow-hoops on their feet; 

Hans Grafne's hut their aim; 
The winter blast they dared to meet. 

For sake of love and game. 

A hearty welcome they received, 
Down through his roof they went; 

Their wants relieved, were not deceived, 
Soon loaded home were sent. 

Alas! Vibration in the air 
Their joyous cheers had stirred; 

An avalanche above the pair, 
A rumbling sound was heard. 



'£> 



Hans comprehended, bitter cup! 

That they were down below ; 
The waiting angels bore them up 

Th rough fifty feet of snow. 



"random shots." 39 

Instant relief! Hans climbed the steep. 

The mother she was dead ; 
The younger child was sleeping sweet, 

Wrapped snugly in his bed. 

His little heart did nearly break, 

He told a wondrous dream — 
When half asleep and half awake, 

Loved angels he had seen. 



A CYCLONE. 

A LAY OK THE TELEPHONE WHEN THE WIRES ARE XJIXED. 

Will Bloomington friends take warning, 
And be careful what they say ; 

I heard a cyclone this morning 
In a most peculiar way. 

The telephone bell was ringing 

At LeRoy an hour or so, 
And between the acts was singing, 

But by whom I do not know. 

The wires had been on a frolic, 
By crossing each other's way ; 

And at Espey's it was colic, 

And the Bloomington Mill to pay. 



40 ''random shots." 

Hungarian "Boss" came stealing, 
The mill is going to repair ; 

And at Krum's a joyous feeling 
Was vibrating in the air. 

Rob Fell was surely in the game ; 

He cried out for miles away 
That butter and eggs are still the same. 

And "I have enough to-day." 

I called for Evans Brothers, 

Thought all Bloomington was high. 

As I heard from many others, 
But their faces could not spy. 

T have heard the geese, in weather 
When the clouds rode on the blast, 

The confusion altogether 

Will compare with what is past. 

I surely was stampeded, 
As I fled the fearful sound ; 

And shall write for what is needed, 
Or go up and look around. 



41 



PERPETUAL WORKS. 

Sixty-eight thousand miles each hour, through space 

The earth is moving in its yearly round ; 

Twenty-five thousand miles each day, with night, 

Producing years, centuries, and ages. 

Springs, Summers, Autumns, Winters, 

Births, deaths, sunshine, darkness, joy, and sorrow. 

Matter animate and inanimate. 

In the train ever changing, are the same, 

Except the spirits as they come and go. 

Spring approaches; the days lengthen out, 

When far in the south the days are shortened. 

In the Arctics' perpetual fields of ice, 

And in the Torrid zone's continual heat, 

Climbing up the mount, from steady weather, 

All seeds, shrubs, plants, and flowers do mature. 

Continual sunshine and brilliant night, 

On verdant valleys, through mighty forests, 

Clouded here and there as the ocean grand, 

The lakes, rivers, brooklets, and even tears 

Mingle together in the moving clouds ; 

With the impure air absorbed by lightning, 

As the pure rain drops fall from the sound 

Of roaring nature, to glad hearts below. 



42 "random shots." 

Nature's laws a perpetual mystery. 

Humanity now is merely a remnant 

Of what has been ; go to the Mother Earth, 

Where sightless eyes with frames returned to dust. 

Mingle, with forests, cities long destroyed, 

The fiercest beasts, the mildest creatures known. 

Innocent children, with wrecks of manhood. 

The vilest sinner with the just. 

The burning mountain threw its vivid light 

On terror-stricken souls in vales below, 

Buried their cities in burning lava, 

Kissing the ocean waves from foreign shores, 

Quickly rising in vapor toward the sky, 

Fanned by northern winds to tropical climes, 

.Raising up forests where man never trod. 

Where fragrant flowers perpetual grow, 

Yast wilds where beasts and birds are almost tame. 



43 



ALPHABET RHYMES. 

A wonderful treasure. 
By letters in measure. 
Contained in these columns. 
Demanded for volumes. 
Enlarged or receded. 
For writing as needed. 
Great issues expounding. 
High intellects sounding. 
Ink often is fickle. 
Jay Gould's mighty sickle. 
Keeping mum at wholesale. 
Linking chains at retail. 
Mankind is maturing. 
Negations enduring. 
On land and on ocean. 
Preparing commotion. 
Quick sighted endeavors. 
Revolving the levers. 
Strange mysteries pending. 
To thinkers unending. 
Unweary adorers. 
Vain seeking explorers. 
With courage untiring. 



44 



Xerxes admiring. 
Years spent for the goals 
Zones frozen at poles. 



FORTY-EIGHT HOURS IN 1881 

FROM BLOOMINQTON, ILL., TO MOBILE, ALA. 

The girls and boys were out sleighing 
On the night of which I write ; 

And their prancing steeds were neighing, 
And the owners' hearts were light, 

And I heard their joyous singing, 

Passing near the hotel door, 
Mingled with the sleighbells ringing, 

And I thought of days of yore. 

On my couch I tried to slumber, 
But my thoughts were like a scroll; 

Like the ocean waves to number, 
Or the pulse that holds the soul. 

At an early hour of waking 
Took a train, was going south. 

Where the darkies love are making — 
Near the Mississippi's mouth. 



45 



The roaring river soon was crossed — 
At St. Louis changing train — 

Near Iron Mountain we were lost 
In a night of sleet and rain. 

Out of the storm we were lucky, 

To a land between extremes; 
At Columbus, in Kentucky, — 

A n< I we passed to better scenes. 

In Tennessee the blue birds cheered, 

In the swamps the game was swimming; 

The summer heat we hourly neared, 
And spring work was beginning. 

Near broad plantations busy bees 
On beech trees were caressing; 

And various birds were in the breeze, 
Their joyous notes expressing. 

And numerous negroes, at their ease. 

Were singing songs together. 
To foreign airs, our ears to please. 

In Mississippi weather. 

On Central Mississippi farms 

Were cotton pickers working; 
And others dressed with glittering charms. 

More happy were in shirking. 



48 



The harness used upon the farms — 
Chain traces and shuck collars — 

Rope lines were strung across their arms — 
The outfit worth six dollars. 

The modest mules did watch us pass, 
Their masters shield, in toiling; 

Near Corinth sheep were mowing grass, — 
The hogs a vale subsoiling. 

Two days had passed; on Mobile bay 
The oyster shells were breaking; 

The ocean steamer, on its way, 
For foreign countries making. 

Upon the banks I thought of sounds 

When cruel war was stealing; 
Through blinding tears I saw the mounds, 

For others woe was feeling. 



'random SHOTS.' * ±7 



MOTION. 

The planets roll unending space, 
Belong to God's own pleasure; 

The growth and life of Adam's race 
We vainly try to measure. 

By currents strong the ocean tides 
Are ever changing on the coast; 

Like human thoughts, in lofty strides, 
Eeturn to levels, though they boast. 

The iron steed, controlled by brains, 
High on the mount is on its way; 

Low in the valley other trains 
Are waiting, as the break of day. 

Where Southern birds are building nests, 
In helds where grain is growing ; 

The winter blast is seeking rest, 
From Northern ice is blowing. 



4s 



FAULT-FINDING. 

The world, some say, is going back, — 
Perhaps they're honest in their views, — 

It may be wisdom that they lack. 

And slow have been to read the news. 

Complain they do; complain they must, 
Obscure from view of those more kind; 

Have selfish grown, and none can trust. 

Their narrow thoughts have made them blind, 

The iron rale of long ago 

Made independent people mean; 
To bless the multitudes below 

More charity to-day is seen. 

Within my breast the ebb and liow 

Of mortal life is beating time; 
To better seenes than here below, 

To spheres for making better rhyme. 



FACTS. 

To think each second two bodies are dead — 
The immortal parts as quickly have fled — 

Or in one hour, from a world of strife, 
Seventy-two hundred have passed this life. 



4:9 



GROWTH. 

God spoke, the earth revolved in space, 
All living creatures made full-grown; 

But man alone, first of the race, 
In Eden learned he was alone. 

Then growth began from Adam's side, 

A rib was taken, and its growth 
A woman formed, a living bride, 

And walking miracles were both. 

A growth of sin on earth began, 
And jealous Cain took Abel's life; 

All down the centnries it ran 

To the present time, through tears and strife. 

And righteousness spread out to grow 

Like arrows, from a quiver bent; 
From genius souls we do not know, 

Immortal sparks that heaven sent. 

The growth of knowledge is sublime, 
From nature and experience old, 

Its age is not confined to time- 
Eternity will it unfold. 



"random shots. 

The growth of shrubs, with sweet perfume. 
That florists guard with tender care; 

Or notes in music made to tune 
To midnight dream of maiden fair. 

Where freedom grew were might y groans, — 
The brave there died where vultures dwell. 

Their monuments are bleaching bones, 
And hooting owls their funeral knell. 



CALCULATIONS. 

Span the earth around with a telegraph, 
Date the message sent on its journey round; 

Wait minutes five, seconds twelve and one-half. 
And the message take as you catch the sound. 



51 



IMITATIONS. 

A boy came walking up the street. 
He had such wondrous ways; 

A model girl I seemed to meet, 
I oft had watched his plays. 

A question Hashed into my head, 
Why he so strange appeared; 

A ready answer, silent said, 
By sisters he was reared. 

I passed along, a girl I met, 

Her age was only ten; 
She seemed to be all in a fret — 

Appeared like many men. 

Her education, from a child, 
Had only been with boys; 

The mystery why girls are wild, 
And make such awful noise. 

Two neighbor girls, together raised, 
Are oft the talk in town; 

The handsome one is often praised, 
The homely scarce a noun. 



52 



Her ugly face the frowning lad 
Passed by with scarce a glance ; 

To her companion, seeming glad. 
If he could get a chance. 

The prettiest face in all the place, 
The homely creature made ; 

And in reply, a homely face, 
The pretty maid had paid. 

A jolly artist thought it wise 
To sketch what he had seen ; 

With valentines did both surprise. 
And proved that both were green. 




YOUTH. 



53 



YOUTH. 

Between the lofty hills near Buffalo, 

Is soil I first beheld that gave me birth ; 
A land where speckled trout in brooklets grow, 

The brightest spot to me upon tlie earth. 

'Twas in the early spring, the hemlocks grew, 
Far up the hill were the beech trees shade, 

'Twas there the pigeons came; they truly knew 

The woods to rear their young; there the eggs were laid. 

And the mill below purest flour made, 

And the living wind mingled in the sound, 

And the shouting boys in the mill race played, 
.Near the water-wheel slowly rolling round. 

'Twas there I drove the cattle by the week, 
Two cents each day as recompense was paid ; 

Through summer time barefooted were my feet, 
The scars remain the cruel stone-bruise made. 

An orchard owned by Deacon Clark, 

His melon patch the neighbors thought the best; 

The better ones were found, the night was dark, 
Jd&y Clark forgive, we did not break his rest. 



54 



Through six long months the school-house fires were made, 
For Guiteau's lawyer, known as Charles H. Reed ; 

Three dollars for my winter work he paid — 
The ashes went for pins ; I was in need. 

Far up the hill a group of children went 

With hand-sleds painted blue, and white, and red ; 

Returning like a cyclone had been sent, 

Before the saints in town their prayers had said. 

And down below, upon the ice at night, 

Were rosy lips and faces smooth as glass, 
And their eyes were clear as the stars were bright, 

And I loved them all as I saw them pass. 




CHRISTMAS CHEER. 



55 



CHRISTMAS CHEER. 

The roses red, the grasses green, 
Are growing south, to-day are seen ; 

The birds of flight, that give us cheer, 
To other souls are just as dear. 

The Esquimaux in fur is dressed, 

In hut of ice enjoys his rest ; 
The winter blast through forests fly 

And here old nature's pipe is high. 

The winter wind is drifting snow, 
Indoors are stockings in a row ; 

The ember glow, the children shout, 
Old Santa Claus is surely out. 

Twenty-four hours of Christmas morn, 

Another day on earth is born ; 
Twenty-four hours of Christmas night, 

The u Shepherd's Star " reflects its light. 



56 "random shots. 



A THRILLING ADVENTURE. 

Long years ago, down East, transpired, 

A circumstance I now relate ; 
My father had a stage-coach hired, 

To navigate across the State. 

The rain had poured for many an hour, 
On Pennsylvania's crooked face ; 

At noon they met a lively shower, 
The frail old bridge had left its place. 

Far up the bank a bridge was found, 
Four feet of water o'er it went ; 

The driver brave, his whip did sound, 
And horses four were on it sent. 

Five years before, I came to earth, 
The whip on the bridge did sound ; 

I think a circumstance of worth 

For me, perhaps, had father drowned. 

When half across, to their surprise, 
The bridge was gone, for many feet ; 

Their thoughts were called beyond the skies, 
Expecting soon their God to meet. 



57 



For half a mile the horses swam 

To a curve the river made ; 
The leaders' hoofs struck on the land, 

When their anxious prayers were paid. 

The driver's courage then was known, 
When for thanks, he curses gave ; 

He greater wisdom would have shown 
Giving thanks that he was saved. 



A MIDNIGHT SCENE. 

The dearest poem I have ever known 
Came to my vision the other night — 

It was from a friend, when I was alone, 
Its cheerful bearings I will try to write. 

The inspiration of a midnight dream 
In golden letters w<as before my eyes ; 

Though the night was dark, light w r as in the scene, 
And the more I read, greater my surprise. 

" Do you remember," as the poem read, 
u Of a blue-eyed child that the angels took 

To better mansions, that you thought was dead, 
And the words I send, for your little book." 



58 



For a while the golden thread is broken, 

Though on earth you know I could not write ; 

But I send you this as heaven's token, 
Of unending love in a "Land of Light." 

Though on earth I only was a child, 

And for many friends drove away the gloom. 

In their loving arms, where I often smiled, 
I am older now than m}^ little tomb. 

Truly I will stand near the " Great White Throne," 
Where there is "no night" patiently will wait, 

For my many friends who have older grown, 
I shall recognize at the "Golden Gate." 



u 



RANDOM SHOTS. 



59 



UNCLE JOHN. 

Of Uncle John I wish to write, 

Who once was old, but now is young; 

His children raised to do the right, 
Is my epistle just begun. 

His black-eyed wife was sweet eighteen, 

Experience her school of life ; 
And from their history is seen 

Effects of honest man and wife. 

In youth, his house of logs was made, 
A fire-place built for winter's storm ; 

And falling trees was part his trade, 
The oxen drew, to keep them warm. 

Hind heaven blessed their little home, 
In forty years great changes came; 

A dozen children, then, were grown, 
And each one had a Bible name. 

The neighbors often wondered why 

Such goodness and such patience shown; 

And when a neighbor chanced to die, 
The kindness of his home was known. 



60 



A latch, with string, was at his door, 
For prison life was there unknown ; 

And always room for one or more, 
The way the family was grown. 

But trouble came; the honest sire 
Had feeble grown; his locks were white; 

His rosy cheeks had lost their fire, 

And dim the eyes, that once were bright. 

He slowly spoke: "I am alone > 

Although in age my heart is light, 
In wisdom, truly, I have grown, 

Though friends of youth have passed from sight. 

He often trembled when he walked, 

And much relied upon his cane ; 
And cheered his children when he talked, 
"Just think, beyond, I'm young again." 

"My 'specks' and staif I leave below, 

In vain you'll try to see my face; 
You older, probably, will grow, 

And need them on the old home place." 

That night the messenger was sent 

To relieve the old man's pain ; 
He did not die, but only went 

An eternal youth to gain. 



"random shots." 61 



Upon his farm, high on a mound, 
A thousand monuments are seen ; 

Where in his youth his axe did sound. 
But now above him grass is green. 



THE LIGHTHOUSE. 

A silent friend's electric eye, 
To a light-house for the world; 

High on a rock where eagles fly, 
With the stars and stripes unfurled. 

A sailor stood one stormy night, 

At the pilot wheel in fear; 
For on the cliff he saw the light 

That to him was very dear. 

For twelve long hours, a thousand hearts 
On the ship had been distressed, 

At the thunder's roar and lightning darts. 
That pierced the ocean's breast. 

Full forty feet the waves piled up, 
And it seemed the ship, did fly; 

Returning down into the cup, 
And it seemed they all must die. 



62 



The miser sat with checks for gold, 
Stowed away at his command ; 

The fighting man was not as bold 
As a coward on the land. 

The gambler ceased his game that night, 
And the drunkard cried for ale ; 

A maiden nearly died from fright, 
And the sailors old grew pale. 

A mother fainted down below, 
And the captain held her child; 

The midnight wind did stronger blow, 
And the little infant smiled. 

" Great God is here," the captain said, 
And a thousand hearts were wild, 

That just before were almost dead, 
And they kissed the smiling child. 

The clouds rode by, the stars shone down, 
And the ocean waves obeyed; 

A thousand souls were in the town, 
That the storm had long delayed. 



RANDOM SHOTS. ** 63 



VARIETIES. 

Perpetual day, perpetual birth, 

Perpetual night on the face of the earth; 

Perpetual waking as well as sleep, 
ISTot only on land but upon the deep. 

Yolcanic action in the earth is pent, 

From the mountain peak does its fury vent; 

Like a giant strong, in sleep like a child, 
When active and roused his strength is wild. 

On memories wall, from those that are dead, 
Achievements we gain from kind words they said; 

Or leaving their names in histories old, 

Bear stronger on earth than vaults filled with gold. 

5 Tis pleasure to know, on a starlight night, 
Our friends far away behold the same sight; 

That shepherds beheld from Bethlehem's height, 
That millions since born have viewed with delight. 

The water we drink, bounding through each heart, 
In the midnight storm soon will take a part; 

And the water now, in the fish and eel, 
At some future time in our pulse can feel. 



64 



Of all the colors of races on earth. 

The laws of nature produce them from birth; 

While all the languages, all the world 'round, 

Produce the same thoughts, but not the same sound. 

Beneath the keyboards of instruments grand 

Is silent music, unknown in this land ; 
But active thinking will be heard at last, 

From the master minds, as in days of past. 

Emblems of purity, snowflakes falling, 

The children young to their windows calling ; 

In tropical climes, up mountains steep, 
The beautiful flowers and snowflakes meet. 

As birds from the south return with new song, 
The millions of earth should journey along ; 

To join in chorus all souls to surprise, 
As from the planet all nations arise. 

To music sweeter than all worlds combined, 

Where the deaf can hear, and where none are blind ; 

Where races and sex can never be known, 

Where the old are young, and the young are grown. 



"random shots." 65 



EDUCATION. 

Two children, I remember, 
Their pedigree the same; 

The eldest in December 
Received his given name. 

And Mary, two years later, 
Appeared upon the earth; 

She proved to be the greater, 
Substantial from her birth. 

Their parents oft reflected 
O'er paths the children went; 

And neither one neglected 
The task that Heaven sent. 

The father told the mother 
Of battles he had fought, 

From school-days to a lover, — 
The loss and gain they brought. 

His choice for life, a blessing, 
Her modest ways and looks; 

A monument in dressing, 
To ornament his books. 



66 



"Now ornament the children, 
As you have polished me, 
And you will be a pilgrim, 
That older ones will see. 

"For children in the cradles 
In time will take our place; 
And gold, as well as ladles, 
Will ornament the race." 

With courage of a lion, 

As harmless as a dove, 
She traveled on to Zion, 

Their home was filled with love. 

For years a home of pleasure, 

At last a cloud arose, 
'Twas on a day of leisure, 

A thorn to kill a rose. 

A naughty little fellow, 
Whose mother early died, 

Was educated mellow, 
Had to her William lied* 

And to her little treasure 
A yellow book he gave, 

It was his daily pleasure 
To educate a knave. 



67 



4 ' Circumstantial evidence, ' ' 
The mother calmly said, 

u Will not gain a pound or pence, 
Or feed a beggar dead." 

Diamonds placed upon a crown, 

Oft are lost in using ; 
Paths to wealth and much renown, 

Lost by heedless choosing. 

In the prisons can be found 

Rigid faces, blighted; 
That their education's bound-, 

Who their chances slighted. 

Capable in younger days, 
To break the lion's jaw ; 

Tan his hide and mend his ways, 
And make him gee or haw. 

Bill and Mary now are grown, 

Integrity and truth; 
And their fame is widely known, 

Decided from their youth. 



68 



OBSERVATIONS, 

In observations take a stroll, 
To figure out our daily need; 

For many parts are in a whole, 

And strange are ways of men, indeed. 

The little fishes in the deep, 

Are soon forgotten in their home; 

When resting on their oars in sleep, 
Are swallowed by the larger grown. 

Self-interest is a righteous law, 

How far from truth so many swerve; 

In others good, they pick a flaw, 
In trade or politics, observe. 

"A thief to catch a thief," 'tis said, 
Tradition handed down to us; 

For years the speaker has been dead, 
But does the saying make it just? 

Proclaiming long in lofty strains, 

That "none are honest on the earth;" 

A sorry time for men of brains, 
Responsible for greater worth. 



69 



Because another person steals, 

And scienced is in telling lies; 
Is that a proof lie better feels 

That honest men he should despise? 

Adulterations bring to grief 

The honest men o'er all the land; 

By filling pockets of the thief, 
That few do fully understand. 

To boldly step upon the round 

Of any ladder, solid made, 
And worry not about the ground, 

But prop it toward the upper grade. 

Shoemakers watch the passing feet, 

The merchant buys to please his trade; 

The debtors pass across the street, 
Because the old bills are not paid. 

The sharper watches for a trade, 
Upon the track misfortune went; 

And where the doctor visits paid, 
The undertaker's thoughts were bent. 

In board of trade how many swear, 
Because they lost all their wealth; 

In age are left in deep despair, 

From loss of earnings, in their health. 



70 



A tombstone man I met to-day, 
Inquiring of the rich that died; 

And of my health he much did say, 
I think he thought I soon would ride. 

I had a notion then and there, 
To call for samples in his books; 

And save a contract, and a prayer, 
His sympathy and purchased looks. 

I've watched my schoolmates all along, 
And those I love more than the rest; 

Have cheerful been, and full of song, 
And always tried to do their best. 

You might as well attempt to hold, 
The ocean current in your hand ; 

As try to prison up the soul, 
Of any independent man. 

The women, as a rule, are kind, — 
That is, as far as I have heard, — 

Although they talk their husbands blind, 
Victorious, by the last word. 

I oft have thought that those succeed 
Who have the grit to hold their own; 

And if to fight there is a need, 
The muscles used are stronger grown. 



71 



The foolish man to the lobby hires ; 

The solid man his actions spurn ; 
The barking dog does sooner tire; 

The seasoned wood does quicker burn. 

Each man, 'tis said, "he has his price," 
Pray tell me how such knowledge known 

Such persons are too over-nice, 

Their better light has dimmer grown. 

Locality has much to mould, 

With thoughts and actions here below, 
For murderers have often told 

That crimes, like goodness, had to grow. 

We make decisions often blind, 

One-half the proof was only heard ; 

Is that the plan, the Master kind, 
Decisions made, from out his word? 

The fleetest horse upon the track, 

Is often beaten in the race, 
His driver did the wisdom lack 

And science took the winning place. 

Of education we must write 

If politics decide our fate ; 
The independent vote is right 

Of all the votes, small or great. 



72 



To force the scholars in our schools 
In politics to please our mind, 

Is proof the parents all are fools— 
Oar constitution is unkind. 

If reformations only thrive, 
As multitudes are wiser grown, 

And politics are kept alive 

By seed unto the masses sown, 

Then let us quickly understand, 

That lofty themes should be our aim, 

Upon the sea or on the land, 
And peace and harmony obtain. 

Indelible should be our ink. 

Decision as we go along ; 
If benefits we cannot think, 

Depend upon some honest song. 

But, if you wish to test a friend, 

Be broken up a year or so ; 
In wealth you cannot sure depend, 

But in adversity will know. 

At twenty years we oft are wise, 
At thirty, just beginning to learn, 

At forty, folly does surprise, 

At death, for knowledge mostly yearn, 



73 



FRUITLESS ATTEMPT TO ANALYZE 
SPACE. 

What is that subtile element, that we 
Call magnetism, yet have never seen or 
Heard? and so far as we can tell, pervades 
All space? Can it be that space itself is 
Held together by its bond ? Is not the 
Air invisible composed of parts ? And 
Are they not material ? And when in 
Mass sufficient gathered, by some force not 
In themselves, successfully attack the 
Strongest fabrics man has built upon the earth. 

Did not Newtonian skill unravel 

Light's soft skein, when any man before would 

Just as soon have thought that space was made of 

Parts as Light? Can anything without its 

Parts exist, of which the whole is more than some ? 

Is not eternity itself made 

Up of moments that will never cease to 

Follow each? And if they did, then where would 

Be eternity, if moments there were 

Not enough to fill it out, and make it last? 



74 



And if extension not, then space would 

Die, for want of continuity at 

Once. But now it lives, and certainly must 

Have a soul — essential being of some kind. And may 

Not magnetism be 

That soul, and keep the universe alive 

By furnishing it space in which to be ? 

Give me a cup to hold the drops that make 

The sea, and I will then annihilate 

The ocean vast, and empty out her trough. 

Infinites crowd on us here ; but this 

Mends not the case: No chain without its links. 

And where would be infinity, if parts were not? 

If not one day can be without 

Its parts, much less infinity ; for much 

Is more than little. It matters not how 

Small a thing may be, it's still a part, of 

Which the half is less than all. Now let's stop. 



75 



THE COMET'S REPLY TO THE 
ATHEIST. 

IN SEARCH FOR A PLACE WHERE THERE IS NO GOD. 

Beyond the glittering worlds of light, 
For ages past, I've been employed; 

And in my vast and rapid flight, 
Have found no place of God devoid. 

I've soared around the burning sun, 
And gazed where mortals never dare; 

And in the journey I have run, 

Have always found that God was there. 

With piercing vision I have gazed 
Among the scattered worlds afar, 

And where their brilliant splendors blazed, 
Have ever found that God was there. 

I've plowed the fields of liquid space, 
And scanned the ocean, earth and air; 

But never found the smallest place, 
But what Almighty God was there. 



Creation's grandeur I've surveyed, 
And seen its riches stored abroad, 

But far beyond where thought has strayed, 
The ample space was filled with God. 

In all that vast unmeasured round, 

Through which my piercing view I dart, 

No place without a God I've found, 
Except the atheist's wretched heart. 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



"".'. ''.•:- : :v' v *.' 




